Sleeping Pills
by psychotropic
Summary: "No matter what I do, she never leaves my mind, and I realize this with frustration. Tori Vega was here to stay." (Jade/Tori)
1. Chapter 1

**Jade**

"Hey, what's this?" I hear Tori ask from across the room, and another flame ignites behind my eyes, burning, and I turn around to see her. She's standing in a casual pose by my dresser, holding a black box, tearing off the lid with one hand. "What kind of a board game is this?"

She tips it one way so I can see, and I immediately recognize the bold white letters and numbers on the black background of the game. "It's not a board game, Vega. It's an Ouija board. You use it to summon the dead." I press the black Sharpie to the posterboard, continuing to outline the pencil marks determining the outcome of our design arts project.

"That's a little creepy, Jade," she nervously chuckles, and the noise itself is enough to make me want to pull a Van Gogh and slice off my own ears. "And this? What the hell is this thing?" She picks up a liquid-filled jar with her long, slender fingers, the chunk suspended in the middle of it is recognizable from where I'm sitting.

"Do you remember when you killed Rex? It's that fat lump that the doctor gave me." I uncross my legs and stand up, walking over and taking the jar from her hands, her slightly terrified yet annoyed facial expression making me smile.

"Don't mention that. Robbie hasn't looked at me the same since." Tori runs a hand through her dark brown waves, a flash of her lavender hair extension coming into view as she does so. "But he's crushing on Cat, so I guess it doesn't matter."

I shake the jar, the yellow-red liquid swirling around the chunk. "What're you saying, Tori? That you like Robbie? Are you _jealous?_" I set the jar down, noticing the decay, making a note that I should throw it out soon before it gets too old.

"No, I'm not! I just…" she leans against the chipped, off-white dresser and runs a hand through her dark brown hair, a flash of her lavender hair extension exposed. "…It's weird. I don't want him to get hurt; he's such a great guy, you know?"

"He's always getting hurt; it's not your problem that he can't get a date or any sort of role. Cat's going to reject him and we all know it. Don't get your thong in a twist over it, Vega." I extend my black-nailed fingers and pick up a photograph; one of Robbie, Cat and Beck at the kickback two months ago, the flash of the camera turning Robbie's skin paler than usual and Cat's hair a fierier red. Beck's eyes were glowing red, but they're unexposed from the black X's that I drew on each of their eyes.

"Hey! You don't know that if I'm wearing a thong." She steps away from the dresser and to the project lying on the floor. "Do you think I could talk Cat into dating Robbie?" She slowly sits down, her eyes fixated on the back of my head, I can feel it. I set down the picture, swiveling around, my arms crossed. "Should we get back to this project?"

"Yeah, we should. But, Vega, knowing you, you're going to end up going to Cat first thing tomorrow and try to point out all of the good things about this little, fragile boy that you shouldn't let yourself wrap your mind around. Let me finish the outlining. You…you fill in the words I've already done." I sit down on the floor.

"Okay," she grabs the neon orange marker and proceeds to press it down onto the paper, her hair swinging over the project as she bows her head.

"Get your hair out of the way, I swear to God, I'll cut it all off with my fucking scissors, okay?"

"Jesus, Jade," there goes that chuckle again. "Sorry, sorry. Do you have a hair tie?"

"No."

"Okay." She replies softly, letting in the fact that I was in a sour mood, one that had lasted for days, more foul than the other arrangement of angsty, bitter moods I constantly radiated. "Hey, do you want to put on music? You have your computer over there," she breaks the silence, still drawing.

"Yeah, sure." I let the Sharpie slide out of my grasp as I stand up, walking over to the laptop on my desk, flipping it open. I can't believe Mr. Honerson paired me and Tori for this art project, he knew I didn't like her. It's those crazy-ass teachers, isn't it, with the way they pair you and the people you have a beef with like you're going to suddenly get along with them or your hatred that has cast over them is going to fade away. I scroll through my iTunes library, looking at all of the death metal and psychedelic songs, downloaded illegally, of course, then shared with Beck. Tori'll hate it, the way the screams of the singers shake your eardrums and the effect that the banging drums and angry guitars have on you. I love it, and I'll love it even more when Tori's face scrunches up in disgust, in that polite kind of way that she gives off, trying not to hurt anyone's feelings. Even mine. Vulnerable little girl.

I press play. It's a Marilyn Manson song, and Tori looks up, her face emotionless. "Really, Jade, can we play something softer?"

"Oh, Tori's got an attitude!" I say in the faux Southern voice that I save for her sassier times. "We're listening to it." She presses the marker down in fine lines on the paper, and I watch her, trying to read the thoughts that are running through her pretty little brain, a brain that looks just like anyone else's, but on the inside, it could be quite different. I don't know, I've never studied brains; I usually stick to the topics of witchcraft and psychedelic drugs.

"I love the weather outside." She quietly says, and I roll my eyes. She's playing the weather card on me, trying to strike up a conversation when all I want is her out of my house so I can have precious alone time and do…I don't know what I would do, actually. Calling Beck is out of the question, and normally I would video chat with him at night, occasionally pleasing him by showing my breasts, enjoying the shock factor. But a wave of loneliness washes over me, knocking me off of my stability, and I think of him.

Beck and I would put on dramatic, dark plays together, and then I would argue with him about how he was interpreting the lines that I had written myself. We would argue about all the other girls that clung to him, the familiar flame behind my eyes igniting at the thought. Yes, it's bittersweet jealousy, but it kept us talking, even though everything was downhill at that point.

He was someone that actually put up with me, but suddenly he had full control of the relationship at that last point, being the one breaking up with me. "Jade? Are you okay?" I hear her voice.

"What?" I snap out of my milky trance, Beck's olive face evaporating. "Yeah, I'm…fine. Tori, I'm going to finish the project on my own. Okay?"

"Uh, yeah, sure," she slowly stands up, her joints making little cracking sounds and her face, plastered with a nervous smile, rises above me. "I'll see you tomorrow?" she reaches down and picks up her messenger back, a tan leather one with a hundred little pockets and her house keys dangling from it.

"Wait. Shit, you can't drive, can you?" I realize, and her smile grows even more sheepish. "Damn, okay. I'll drive you." I stand up myself, a swift motion, desperate to get her out so I can think on my own, surrounded with the darkness of my room and my mind. She follows me out the door and through the house, silent, but I can feel her uncomfortable thoughts.

I unlock my maroon car, a hand-me-down from my mom, and slide inside of it, sticking the keys in the ignition. "Why do you think Mr. Honerson paired us for the project?" she asks, looking at me, expression relaxed.

I roll my neck and hear the joints pop satisfyingly as the wheels roll onto the dark, streetlight-lit pavement. "Because teachers are stupid and try to get us to make friends. That's how it's always been, Vega. No matter what they promise you they're merciless."

She senses the coldness in my voice. "Oh…so, are we friends?"

Great, Vega, keep the questions rolling, hitting the spots in my mind that are black holes, that I don't know what I'm thinking when I hit them; the thoughts that are stone cold and obvious. "I hardly think this project brought us closer." I simply reply, my eyes on the road, my thoughts elsewhere, aimed at Beck, at school, at my hatred for the endless things in my life.

"I don't know, we started talking," she extends a finger and I feel a poke in my arm, and annoyed nerves spiral into me from the touch, my teeth gritting.

"Don't touch me."

* * *

**A/N: The title Asking For It comes from the band Hole.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Jade**

Tori's gone. I dropped her off at the curb of her modern, lit-up house and didn't look at her as she skipped out of the car, a little brought down from my bitchiness but still containing enough energy to look back with a smile and a wave, promising to see me tomorrow, reminding me to finish the project.

As I drive away, my foot pressing hard into the gas pedal, I think of Beck; the way his hair falls over his eyes when he's laughing, bent over and smiling. I remember all of the one-liners that I would pull as we watched horror movies in the dark, our faces illuminated by the TV screen in my basement. He would make comments on what else the teenagers could do to be even more idiotic and get killed off faster, then I would follow that up on methods of how to kill them even more creatively than what was portrayed in the movie.

There was also the little things, the way that he brought me coffee on mornings after I had stayed up late working on homework or getting yelled at by my parents; the way he would kiss me on the lips hard with pressure, the way he knew I liked. He would hoist me up onto his lap if we were just sitting in separate chairs; for these little signs of affection lit a warming fire within me.

I press harder, and my heart slams into my chest when I hear another horn honk, headlights blinding my eyes and my mind racing, Beck's face gone. The car parallel to mine stops, rolls down their window. I roll my eyes and throw my head down onto the steering wheel in exasperation as the driver comes into view.

"What were you doing, speeding? You could've killed-" their voice is cut off, and the much too familiar expression of the person in front of me stops my already shaken heart, their brown eyes peircing into the ones in my memories, and the way that the dark brown hair is brushed away from the tan skin of their forehead and the rest of their face spins me off into a different world, one where none of this existed and I had no memories. I am stuck between a parallel universe and this one, staring into his eyes.

Beck clears his throat, recognizing me too, and his eyes seem to flash. "Ah, Jade, hello…"

"Hi." My voice is caught between emotions, overwhelmed and livid.

"We haven't talked in a while." He says, and I feel a match being thrown into me, a red flame growing into a blue one, licking up my insides and I wrap my fingers around the steering wheel.

"We're blocking the street. We should start driving again." I say, my eyes stuck on him, my mind faltering off to a web that's tangled the memories and my desire to leave this situation together. "Bye."

"Oh, okay, bye," he says, and I don't look in the rearview mirror as I drive off, and keep driving, head lost and heart shattered.

I'm in my room, the black walls closing in on me as my pale hands shake before my eyes. I count the rings on the fingers by memories. The first one on my right hand's ring finger is one that Beck gave me, with a silver Celtic cross, the second one being a black bat. I want to snip off my finger and dispose of the rings, but the other part of me, still swirled off into the other world I'm stuck in within my heart, tells me no.

The top of my dresser shows the evidence of me and Tori sorting through my stuff, the Ouija board now lying on the floor right next to the furniture, the pictures and jar strewn into different positions. I look through them, mesmerized by Beck's presence in the kickback photo, negatively enthralled by the feeling of his absent, ghostly company. I feel cold air, like he's standing right there behind me, waiting for me to say something, but I know he's not. He's probably at his RV or where ever he was driving to by this point.

The absence numbs me, my mind freezing and my broken heart lying right where I can feel it, the shards of it stabbing into me, a bitter song of discarded love pulsating within it. I realize that the music is still playing, the Manson album on repeat, his angsty voice nearly blowing out the speakers. Nobody's home, nobody would care. I'm the only one that gills up the empty, large building that we dare to call a home, dust collecting on the old family photos and gothic-like books on law, what my mother practices, what she's so busy with. I've looked in them, it's full of confusing, complicated words and theories that you'd have to start from the very beginning of the studies to understand.

Our house is fairly clean, and only having one kid that's now a nearly-absent teenager, they don't bother to hire weekly maid services, only two weeks apart. It's little steps but we all are somewhat aware in a corner of our heads that our family, our home, is decaying slowly; the separate bedrooms occupied separately by my parents is silently unmistakable.

Beck and I are now in separate beds as well. _It's what I'm doing, it's my presence. It breaks things apart. _ I think this thought and it makes me shudder, but I don't ponder on it. Beck's own presence is still in my head and the memories are nearly screaming at me to replay them.

I'm so alone. There's no support system anymore, no sort of beam that can hold me up so I don't crash down. Beck was my only one, he was the person I would turn to when I was upset and I would relish his hold, listening to his comforting voice, telling me that everything would be okay no matter what; that's what held me up. Now I'm beamless.

That's okay though, I was before I started dating him anyways, and I wasn't any different, just angrier. If Tori thinks that I'm a monster now, she should've seen me before I had someone in my life. She could just ask Andre or the others about how I was physically violent, and the familiar feeling of adrenaline in my hands pulsates, the memories of pushing infuriating person after person out of my way and the reminiscences of punching walls entering my head. I'm so sadistic.

It's so cruel, the way I begin to chop up the pictures of Beck with my black-handled scissors, and I wait for my control to loosen until I'm completely wrecked.


	3. Chapter 3

**Jade**

At school, no one talks to me. Smart kids. I have no interest in talking to them either, but I feel alone, caught one again between two emotions, desires. A feeling of unmistakable dread perches stubbornly within my stomach like a vulture, my mind on Beck since the sleepless hours of last night. Andre is leaning against his piano locker, a soft mew coming from a few keys as his shoulder rests upon its black and white colors. I feel the urge to talk to him, but I've scared him and I don't know why he would be talking to me, so I keep walking down the hallway, my own locker that's been penetrated with scissors stuck in my sudden, anxious tunnel vision. My boots hit the floor heavily, angrily; and I'm suddenly aware that I'm glad that my locker is in a corner. If I see Beck, he won't see me, but I begin to question why that thought runs through my head.

I pull my partner project out of my bag, rolled up into a hollow cylinder, and yank my locker open. I leave it unlocked. If anyone dares to open it, they'll be face to face with the exorcist girl's demonic expression, the print-out hanging from the top of the inside. Also, I figured that people at this age and with enough mind to get into this school and knowledge of my personality wouldn't dare to go looking through my locker. I lift that up and slide the project in.

"Yeah, that's pretty weird." I hear Tori's faraway voice, spin around abruptly to something that stabs me hard, the knife going into my stomach and drawing thick, red blood, which fills up and clouds my head. Beck is standing by Tori's locker, accompanied by the apparent teen dream herself.

I want to storm over there, grab his eyelashes and rip them off; tear a pair of scissors out of my locker door and drive it right through his eyeballs. I'd aim for his face, his prized possession that he's never been arrogant about but he knows, good and well, that it's there. I'd take Tori by the nape of her skinny neck and knock her head right into her flashy, so-called "meaningful" light-up locker door. I liked the theme much better when the strange Ponnie girl switched the words to "make it rot".

But Cat jumps in front of me, her squeal and red hair feeding the burning flame within me. "Hi, Jade! Today is Wednesday. Do you know what that means? It's hump day!" she squeals, her hand covering her mouth slightly as she giggles.

"Yeah, whatever, Cat," I crane my neck to look at Tori and Beck. She has a pleasant expression, her mouth upturned and her eyes bright, which makes me angrier, the red hot sensation growing to my stomach, igniting the dread and burning it to a crisp. Cat keeps bouncing, running her painted nails through her red hair in front of me, blurring my pephrerial vision. My heart is pounding and seems to be in sync with Tori's mouth, moving in slow-motion, blurs of pink lips and straight, white teeth. I'm dizzy, the hallway is dizzy, and my hands are wrapping around the smooth, cold handle of the violent objects on my locker.

I need to leave. I need to leave. Cat needs to leave, Tori needs to die, and Beck needs to burn in Hell. I'll send him there myself if I need to, I think, as my hands grip tighter around the handle, the skin on my fingers stinging from the slight friction. I'll kill him. I'll skin him alive myself and send him through my uncle's slaughterhouse at his farm in North Dakota. Beck's from Canada anyways, he'll be familiar with the area.

Cat says something and then walks away, and I feel discarded, but so is the thought as I focus on the two brunettes. Tori is rummaging through her bag as Beck leans against a locker, one hand grabbing his backpack handle. I feel lost and faraway as he watches her, memories of making videos for the slap wandering through my brain, his voice echoing hollowly within me as he argues with me, and then tells me he loves me. His lips would end up on mine and we would turn off the video, a swift click of the rubber button on the remote with my finger. His lips were so soft, so pink, and stole me with just the envious touch.

But his lips were on his body very distant from me, across the hallway, moving in quick motions for another girl, someone other than me. Someone much too familiar, this girl who sings for her dreams that she explains so many times to everyone. She's known by everyone, this girl, Tori. And Beck is talking to her. I'm losing him to her.

I have to walk away.

At my locker again, my phone shows the time, declaring that school is over. Tori scoots up next to me, a little smile plastered on her face. She looks nervous, eyes shifting from me to the floor as each second passes. "Hey, Jade,"

"What do you want?" I ask.

"Do you want to go out for sushi? Like, right now? If you could drive us, that is," she giggles a little.

"What the hell, Tori? So you flirt with Beck and then ask me to hang out? What kind of game are you playing?" I place my physics book into my locker with a tight grip, remembering the class that I hate so much; the way that science is based off of pure common sense angers me. There should be some sort of creativity, a rule-bender that allows a loophole in science. I think this silly thought as Tori stands before me, her darting eyes watching my vacant expression.

"I don't know, I just thought…" she runs her fingers through her hair, pushing it back over her skull as her gaze falters towards the poster hanging up in my locker. "…I just thought that we should hang out. We were talking when I was over at your house."

"That doesn't mean anything." I slam the locker closed, a familiar, angry noise.

"Okay, well, why don't we just go? You'd have to drive me though," she repeats, and I roll my eyes. "Come on! We can leave whenever we want to."

"Don't you hate me, though? Didn't you tell me that you'd miss me the least when you nearly got booted out of this place?" I run my fingers along the handles of my scissors, cool and smooth little ridges. "Don't you go around like a little bird telling everyone how mean I am?"

She leans on the neighboring lockers, looking at me, twisting her grip around her tan messenger bag, and sighs. "Yeah. Okay, fine. Sorry I bothered you. But please?" she whines like a puppy who wants attention.

"Whatever, okay."

The sushi place isn't too crowded; it's only occupied by the owners and two moms in workout clothes, flipping through the menu with one hand as they brush back their styled bangs with the other. Tori taps her fingers in an rhythmic fashion on the transparent table, causing little fingerprints to appear on the glass. I wish she would stop. I want her to stop. She needs to stop.

"I'm going to get the mango sushi plate," she declares after glancing at the menu in front of her.

"Great," I say.

Silence. That's all it is between us, that's all I want it to be, but I wish that I could keep her silent, gag her and throw her into a closet, shut the door for a few hours, then play Saw. She can't read my thoughts. She's an oblivious little shit, and I consider that she could possibly be ridden with self-conceitedness, thinking about her own talents and the way that she can probably get any guy that she wants with only simply asking. But then again, there's Trina, and she's probably not as bad as her on the inside. No, she probably isn't; you'd have seen a little part of that slip out of her by now. For all I know, she self-conscious.

"So, ah, the other day, we were talking about restrooms. It was actually here, remember when Robbie got into that whole hambone thing? Yeah, so restrooms, it's not like anybody actually naps in there, right?" she chuckles as she picks her nails, causing sharp snapping sounds, little specks of lavender nail polish littering the table.

"Can you not?" I ask, picking up the menu and opening it to the first page. "I'm getting the spider sushi."

"What does that have in it?" she asks, restraining her hands to refrain from picking her nails, and leans over to look at the menu. "Crab, coconut, nice. Oh, hey! Do you want to do karaoke?" she nods her head at the empty stage, DJ turntable vacant. "We could just tell the owner that we want to and they'll probably set it up."

"No. I'm not in the mood, and this place is emptier than Cat's head. It'll probably piss those two moms if we sing some trashy pop song, anyways." I snap the menu closed, looking Tori dead in the eye as I speak.

"Jade! You actually care!" her face breaks out into a smile, and I want to punch her, but I just roll my eyes and throw my palm into my forehead.

"Not in the mood."

"You never are, are you?"

"That's a very strong statement to make."

"Okay, okay, sorry." She throws her hands up, and without a thought, I've scooted out of my chair and slung my bag over my shoulder, tunnel vision aimed towards the exit of the restaurant. "Where are you going? Are we leaving already?" Tori calls behind me. Her chipper footsteps follow my trail as I beeline for the car, fumbling with the keys in my hand. I find the unlock key and press it down hard, sliding into the driver's seat as Tori gets into the passenger seat. "What's wrong?"

"What the fuck do you mean, 'what's wrong'?" I nearly yell as I back up in the vacant parking lot, Tori buckling her seatbelt with her gaze locked on me.

"Well, you're obviously upset, it's written all over your face? What's wrong? Is it about Beck?" after a moment, her eyes widen and she leans back against the seat. "Oh my God, this is about this morning, isn't it? Please don't kill me,"

"Shut up, Tori. Yes, I'm angry at you for talking to Beck. That's real bitter of you, isn't it?" my hands wrap around the steering wheel, warm from baking in the Californian sun that blazed through my windshield.

"I…I'm really sorry, Jade," she says. "Do you want to vent to me?"

"What?" I turn a corner.

"Ah, do you want to talk to me about anything? Like, is there anything that you want to get off your chest? Like about Beck?"

_What the fuck is she prying for?_ I think as I simultaneously wish I could rip her stare off of me. "No."

"Do you miss him?"

Do I miss him? Of course I miss him, the memories of the past few sleepless nights floating into my head, scissors slashing his photographed face as I sit in a vulture-like crouch far in the corner of my bedroom. How could I not miss him?

"No."

"Then it's okay if I talk to him?"

God damnit, Tori! "No! Okay, I miss him. Okay? Jesus Christ." I press a finger to my temple, eyes glued on the road.

"Oh, okay. Good, that's venting."

We spend the rest of the drive in external silence, and I entertain myself with making a mental-list of different ways to murder her.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry about the title change. This story was previously "Bitter". I must let you all know that I have a new obsession with someone by the name of Lana Del Rey. I didn't think I'd get into her music, but I did, and with me it's either hardcore or nothing and then I listen to the likes of Radiohead and Lana Del Rey.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Jade**

At school, Beck waits at Tori's locker. Asshole. He's leaned against her locker, his hair combed back in windy swoops, a privilege from having a hairdresser as a mother. She was a fiery woman, making remarks that she wasn't afraid to say, always having a glass of velvet red wine in her hand. She wasn't an alcoholic, though, I knew that. This very thought of me knowing Beck's mom shoots an arrow throw my heart, despair and pining. All of this chagrin I'm going through thinking about him is killing me. I watch with vicious eyes as Tori walks by the vending machines, waves to him, and keeps walking. Beck stands up out of his leaning position as she waves, and his face is confused and betrayed as she disappears. A satisfactory punch to his gut. I smirk, and remind myself that I owe Tori, but most likely, I sure as hell will not be doing her a favor anytime soon.

"Beck, hey!" a chipper voice, sugar and spice laced within the roots of the words lodging the arrow in my heart in deeper. "I missed you!" I turn just in time to see a tall, brunette girl wrap her arms around his neck; his lips, lips that haven't been mine for way too long, plant a kiss on the girl's cheek. The arrow lodges deeper.

"Do you know who that is, Jade?" a voice makes me jump, and I turn to see that it belongs to Sinjin. "That's Amanda Cobb; she's a new student here."

"I don't give a shit, Sinjin!" I say, reaching up into my locker and ripping the exorcist face down, pushing the paper onto his face as I kick him in the shin. He grips his leg and hops off. Strange little boy.

* * *

She's in my theater class. She's in my fucking theater class. This Amanda Cobb chick, who has a little button nose and dark pink lips, is in my class. Cat and Tori ask her questions; where did you come from, do you sing, are you a fan of this band. It makes me sick, and I reach for Sikowitz's puke-green stress ball on his desk. I feel my heart beat and my hand pump the ball in time with each other, fingers tensing and releasing; heart thudding, shattering my ribcage.

"Where are you from, again?" Tori asks behind me.

"Oklahoma. My dad took a job here a few months ago and I auditioned for the school." She says. "I um, auditioned with singing."

"Sing for us!" Rex calls out from the row parallel to me, and for once I don't wish that Tori hadn't saved him after the freak tornado-maker accident. Robbie guffaws and tells Rex to be quiet, and Rex follows up with a sassy remark. I don't have the patience for this.

"Why Oklahoma, Amanda?" I spin around in my chair, lift one leg up around the backrest and straddle the plastic. I plaster a smug smile on my face as she looks at me with confused eyes, and Beck looks at me too, big brown eyes locked onto mine. I'm afraid that my ribcages will actually crack from the heavy, heavy heartbeats pulsating within me.

"I didn't choose where I live," she chuckles. "It is pretty boring. It's mostly desert, and it can get really hot or really cold." She smiles at Beck. "But it's only hot here, isn't it?"

"Not always. Sometimes it can get really cold. It can get icy and bitter." I grip onto the backrest. "I bet you didn't think of packing a coat for this trip, huh?"

"It's not a trip, it's…" she starts to stammer, her words flowing together and she looks around at Beck and Tori, wondering why this girl is already in the beginning stages of hating her. "I moved here. It's not a trip. I did pack a coat, okay? So, I'm prepared."

"What classes are you taking?" Cat asks, flipping her red hair behind her tanned shoulder.

"Oh! Well, this class, and I'm also taking R&B singing, classical singing, and an improvisation. I want to audition for some of the plays too, do you know where you do that?" she asks, crossing one thin, jean-clad leg over the other, and I notice she's wearing suede knee-high tan boots, a very Tori look. "I saw that you guys are doing West Side Story. I'm going to audition for Maria."

"Well, aren't you a fucking special snowflake?" I cock my head to the side, smile growing wider, showing teeth. Her eyebrows narrow in.

"Why are you being such a bitch?" her legs uncross, brunette curls bouncing, and I watch her tiny nose rise up ever so slightly in the air.

"Why do you expect to be here for one day and suddenly audition for a lead role?" I tap my fingernails on the ledge of the plastic blue backrest icily, teeth-smile curling into a one-cornered smirk. "That doesn't happen."  
"Actually, Jade, it can happen, it happened to me," Tori chimes in, and with that, smiles are gone and I whip my head over to look at her.

"'Who the fuck asked you to talk, Vega?"

"Cool it, Jade," Andre tries, but I flip him off with a sharply manicured middle finger. Tori's face is hurt, her neck cranked back a little bit and eyebrows furrowed just as much as Amanda's. Andre and Beck watch with wide eyes, Beck's more knowing than anything. He knows me better, he probably knows what move I'm going to make next, what words I'll say. He knows why I'm pissed off, he knows that I hate Amanda for getting Beck. He knows that I hate Tori right now for speaking up and saying it's okay to steal roles. He knows all about me, and here I sit, about to lunge at the two brunettes with dagger-sharp words and I contemplate what the real use is of making any next move if he knows. If he will just be disappointed or he will get mad. He knows all about me, and I don't know why, but this entire thought shakes me, and I stand up, wheel around, and walk out of the door.

* * *

"Jade?"

It's Layne, he found me in the Blackbox Theater, sitting in a back corner of the theater, feet propped up by the seat in front of me. My head is bent over and my fingers are stroking and rotating my black pair of scissors. They're entirely black, even the blade; they shine a mysterious dark blue when you get them in the right light position. I slip them into my bag to avoid suspicion from the guidance counselor. I hear him near me, and through my dark curtain of hair that hangs over my face I see him slide into the velvety seat two over from mine. "I heard that you walked out of Sikowitz's class."

I don't talk, I just pick at my sharp, claw-like nails, then dig them into my thighs to stop the picking. I worked hard on getting those nails long and sharp, and I am sure as hell not going to pick up  
Tori's nervous habit and get them dulled down. Layne watches me. "You want to talk about what happened? I was told that you got upset at some people."

"Yeah, I did." I solemnly reply.

"Was it Amanda and Tori?"

"You obviously know the whole story, don't you?" I look up at him, brushing my hair curtain out of the way. "I bet Amanda or Tori or even Beck told you exactly what I said."

"What do you mean by 'even Beck'?" he asks, and I narrow my eyes, caught in the question. "Did something happen between you guys? I saw him with Amanda."

"We broke up. That's all. And now he and Amanda are probably together, and Amanda and Tori are going to become best friends. That's it." I grab my bag and stand up. "I need to go."

He doesn't stop me, just watches me like everyone else, every move that I make.


	5. Chapter 5

I avoid my classes for the rest of the day and I know that I'll be paying for it later, but I feel numb, cold, and desolate so I keep walking, shoving my hands inside of the old black petticoat jacket that I yanked out of my closet this morning, my knuckles running into a small metal object. I stop in my tracks, right in front of the school where other students are emptying out, slowly walking towards their cars with their empty reusable coffee cups, and pull it out. It's a key, a little silver one with a black ribbon attached. Sloppy red paint on the ribbon displays one name that makes my heart jump. _Beck_.

Beck. It's the extra key to his RV that he let me have.

I remember, flashbacks coming back to me of him first placing the key into my palm with curled fingers and kissing my hand Jack Dawson style, watching as I open my hand back up to see the key. The ribbon was tied on it already with his name on it. I then remember one other incident, sticking the key into the slot of his RV, barging in on his video chat session with Tori when I found out that there was a cheerleader who lived next to his house; a cheerleader who turned out to be fucking six years of age. I hadn't pulled this jacket out since a few months ago, and I remember looking for it, but when we broke up the key had completely skipped my mind. The possibilities run through my head of what I could do to him and his precious RV, and a grim smile creeps up onto my face.

As I lock the door behind me, I see that Beck's little personal house is exactly the same way it was when I was last here. His bed is messy, a flannel duvet thrown about on it, and I think about us, his warm hands on my waist, then removing them to reach for the light switch and flick the light off. Goosebumps erupt on my skin and I feel saddened, a tidal wave overcoming me. This place holds way too many memories. It's nearly sickening. I run my right hand over the rough cotton bedding. My eyes wander off towards the large bookshelf that takes up half of one wall of the RV, full of playwrights, classical literature books, an Edgar Allen Poe story collection, a black skull candle identical to the three in my room that I gave him two months ago. There are a couple of folded shirts in there for some reason, stacked on top of each other. I pick one up, a Nine Inch Nails t-shirt, and bury my nose in it, inhaling his scent. I'm intoxicated, transported to a different place where the light is off but it's bright and sunny between us, where when he traces his finger around my lips as we lay next to each other and I love him. I still love him. I snap back to my currently-destructive mind frame and pull the shirt away, questioning myself on what the hell I think I'm doing, getting myself high off of what we had.

So many memories, too many feelings to comprehend and let them settle in my stomach. I miss him, and I feel it hit me hard. I miss the way he would put up with me, the little things he did to calm me down or make me happier, despite the way I would get so bitchy with him. As I look down at his bed I remember when I was nearly tearing my hair out over the fact that Tori had gotten yet another lead in a play, and when I had turned away with a heaving chest and strands of hair strewn over my eyes, I felt his arms wrap around me and a kiss on my forehead. Everything was okay. He picked me up like one would do in a movie and carried me over to his bed. I was so in love, and now the feelings hang me up like strings of a helpless puppet. I miss him.

I throw the shirt back into the bookcase, not bothering to fold it. My eyes scan the rest of the bookcase, full of stuff that he's collected from Hollywood Arts, the next shelf composed of demented objects that I've given him. He still has them all. Has he forgotten to clean it out, does he just like the things that I gave him? Most of the gifts are more of my taste, I think, as I look at the jar of animal bones that I cleaned off myself four months ago and the black feathers that I plucked off of a dead raven that I found upturned on the sidewalk during the night. Beck had reminded me that a dead raven is a horrible omen, and I just said I know and walked away. I recall being mad at him for something and giving him the feathers, a devious move on my part, but it dizzies me that he's kept it all along.

Why?

The thought that he is a better person than I ever was adds gallons of water to the crashing waves of despair that already are burdening me just being here, and I fall back onto his bed, sinking into the memory foam, trying to block out his scent. No more feelings, no more feelings. Please be senseless, indifferent, please.

I lie on his bed and fold my legs, tucking my knees up to my chest and shutting my eyes closed, inhaling the traces of his shampoo on his pillow. Its ocean breeze-scented shampoo he uses, and he showers inside of his house because his RV doesn't have a bathroom. He sighs every time he has to get up and out of the RV, where I sit and fall back onto his bed, just as I find myself doing now. I miss him.

The burning, unfamiliarly bright light sears into my eyes as they blink open, and my heart and organs nearly burst and explode with realization. The smell of the sheets is too intoxicating to be a good sign, and dread paints its dark color all over me. I fell asleep in Beck's RV, I didn't go home. Holy shit, holy shit. My eyes search frantically for a clock, and find a digital one with red numbers staring back at me. 12:56. A slight sigh of relief washes over me. I wasn't asleep for long, only less than two hours, for the last time I checked the time was in the car five houses away from Beck's and it was around eleven thirty. I smile when I remember locking the door behind me. I try not to think what would happen if he found me curled up, trespassing on his property.

I sit up and pull the curtain back ever-so slightly to see a quiet, vacant street with no Beck in sight. I assume he just slept in his normal house for the night, barely drifting off to the possibilities as why his RV was locked. Wait, he has his own key. Shit, oh no, he's not here yet but he's probably coming back home from his recording session. I leap up from the desk and unlock the door, slowly tiptoeing down onto the asphalt and then, after a slow swivel of the head to check my surroundings, I pull a bunny-rabbit move and sprint for the car, coming to my senses. My head pounds from the unexpected slumber and the illegal move that I pulled; ruining his car, breaking into his little house.

As I stick the car keys in the ignition and take a back road to avoid possibly seeing his car, I remember the scent, thick and filled with reminiscences.

I have been laced with guilt from going to Beck's RV, knowing I can't tell a soul. Tori leans on my locker. "Beck told me he was up at the school past two a.m. I didn't even know that was allowed."

"Really? I bet you he was there with Amanda, they were probably fucking each other in the bathroom." I pull out the books I need, but pretend to search for something just to avoid her eyes.

"_Jade_," she says disapprovingly. "They just met! They're going out now, though. But anyways, Beck said-"

"They're going out? Like boyfriend, girlfriend going out?" I have to look at her. She nods, and drops her hand from Robbie's locker design, looking at me sympathetically. "Yep, they were fucking."

"_Jade._ Oh, hey, when are auditions for West Side Story? I'm auditioning for Maria, and I know you are too, but it's always been that way," she chuckles and plays with a necklace around her chest, the silver glinting in the school lights just like Beck's RV. "Wait, Jade, can I ask you something? Did you…ah, did you wreck Beck's, ah, car?" Her eyebrows scrunch in and I realize that she's seriously asking me.

"No. That's illegal, Tori."

"Yeah, but, um…" she runs a hand through her bag and lifts out a fresh water bottle, unscrewing the top. Her eyes shift over to somewhere else. "…from what I know, just the fact of it being illegal wouldn't really stop you. You haven't actually, well, done anything illegal," she takes a swig. "but you'd be one to do that." As she finishes talking, I grab the water bottle out of her hand and chuck it, a fountain of water flying out of it as it smacks into another student, and they turn around. As they do, I uncontrollably cover my mouth with my hand and gasp. I hit Beck. I find this funny but I also find it terrifying , which makes me laugh a little bit, and his face is angry.

"What the hell, Jade?" he throws his arms out, shirt dripping. I remember the time after I staged Tori hitting me when I got a bucket of water accidentally dumped on me, and I begin to laugh more, his eyes on fire, and I wish that I could escape the scene right here and right now. He comes towards me with his arms still stretched out with disbelief, and I mutter an, "Oh, shit," and duck behind Tori. I don't know what's getting into me, I'm never like this; I'm probably just still a little unwell from what happened last night. He stops right in front of us and Tori side-steps to reveal me in my disgrace. "What was that for?"

I look at him, but that's when I really notice him, his eyes. The fire in them. The confusion, the obviousness that he's convinced that he's got a stable recovery laid out before him with Amanda, which is probably going to go well, and it hurts me to admit this to myself. I need to leave. So I do, I brush past him, my shoulder softly bumping into his chest and a low-burning fire of my own ignites within me. There's a fire and an ocean in myself, slamming into each other and I keep walking.

The Blackbox Theater is quiet except for the electricians up on the catwalk, arms reached towards the ceiling, playing with wires, and I sit in the corner watching them with a blank stare. They noticed me when I walk in, they always do, turning and smiling, then going back to the wires. I throw my head back to rest on the black brick walls and let my eyes close, drifting off to the sound of power tools and my loud thoughts. I feel guilty, and I drown the green feeling with the dark blue of my inner ocean, the spiral circling down and down into the darkness, out of sight, temporarily out of mind.

"Jade, why did you do that?" my eyes snap open to the sudden question that I ran away from and I see Beck heading up the aisle, and I keep my head thrown back. "Was it an accident?"

"Yes, Beck. It was an accident, I grabbed Tori's water bottle and threw it, that was it. I didn't know you were coming." I throw my hands into my lap, and sigh. I'm giving in, I don't know what's happening. "I'm sorry."

"Jade," he says, and walks towards me, sliding into the seat next to me. "I know you're angry," I just watch him, dark blue waves lapping over me and I tell them not to go through my eyes, not right now. "and that's respectable, but, Jade," he says as he adjusts to the seat and leans back, watching the workers absentmindedly. "I want to be friends. I don't want us to be mad at each other, you know?"

"You're mad at me?" I sit up in my chair, and he shifts his gaze to me. "Why, what did I do? I bet you that Tori made up something that I did and told you, because I haven't done shit." I want him to stop looking at me, turn his eyes back to the workers that I pray to God aren't listening in like creepers.

"You haven't done anything, and I didn't mean that, I'm not mad at you. You just…seem so upset."

"Who the fuck wouldn't be upset?" I stand up and step over him, my leg brushing his and I tell myself not to look back even if my life depends on it. As I storm out of the theater and slam the door behind me, I begin to run senselessly, mind and body numb towards the bathroom, and I finally lose it as the bathroom door closes, and without caring that anyone that I know or do not might hear my screams pierce the walls of the bathroom, I bring a fist to the mirror at my teary reflection, glass shattering along with the screams and a waterfall of reflective shards shower down upon me and the sink. Finally, without thought or control, I feel my body sink down to the floor and my soul far underground.

* * *

**A/N: Hi, guys! Thanks for the reviews. Also, did you see Jade in the "Oppisite Date" episode when she found Beck and Tori at the animal hospital? Her expression was so heartbreaking. And in the "Three Girls and One Moose" episode, her dress was amazing. I want one like that.**


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